


lonely road

by whistler (Oswald)



Series: THE IDES OF MARCH [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Inspired by Silent Hill 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 01:01:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oswald/pseuds/whistler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's a lot of baggage in the backseat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lonely road

            It's been two months since they first started traveling together and, somehow, things haven't changed all that much. Silve still takes up the entire bed, still hogs the blankets, still talks incessantly, and still stares into space.

 

            Ophelia's learned to get used to it. Silve's a little freak, after all. When Ophelia learned that, things just got better.

 

            Still. There are moments when Silve's strange tendencies just got a little...creepy.

 

 

            Namely the staring - waking up and seeing someone like Silve hovering over you?

            Yeah, that's not pleasant.

            She's certainly not ugly, but she's got a strange face, almost like an owl - big blue eyes and dark skin that blends in with the night. The first few times, Ophelia had shrieked and started kicking (which resulted in the barely-faded shiner Silve currently had).

            Last night, when she opened her eyes and saw Silve staring down at her, she just stared back. Logic would dictate to fight back, but she just couldn't. Like she was being held down, smothered by some unseen ghost.

 

            It lasted for a good hour or so - staring, staring. Like they were trying to read one another, in languages long dead. Eventually, Silve turned over and went back to sleep and Ophelia did the same.

 

            She didn't dream that night, but that's not all that surprising. It's been a long time since she's dreamed.

____

_

 

 

 

            Ophelia pulled over a moment ago, stating that she had to stretch her legs. Six hours is her limit, after all. Her next job was in Colorado this time around: Some high strung rich bitch tired of her husband's "coonhound ways". In all honestly, Ophelia had no interest in such a petty dispute, but the pay was good.

 

            "I'm hungry." Silve grouses, leaning out the passenger side window, "When are we gonna eat?"

 

            "There's stuff in the back seat - quit whining." Ophelia replies, walking around the car and out into the open air. The stretch of road just seems to go on and on and on, a dual lane through the desert. The lights of the cities had long died, leaving only the glimmer of moonlight. There's a soft wind that whisltes through the sand, creating rivulets, pushing the needles of the cacti.

 

            "All you've got back there is that dried up, chewy mess you call granola," Silve huffs, "Not really filling, if you ask me."

 

            "Good thing no one asked you."

 

            Silve pouts.

 

            It's kind of cute, honestly. Silve's lips are full and round - her pouting is adorable, in it's own irritating way.

 

            "If you've got to use the toilet, you'd better do it now." Ophelia stretches her arms above her head, "I don't want to stop again into we get into Colorado."

 

            "Out here in the open?!" Silve hops out of the car, pulling the wrinkles from her skirt, "Are you kidding me?! What if someone sees?!"

 

            "Then you'll give them a great show, now won't you?" Ophelia gives her a toothy grin.

 

            "You're disgusting!"

 

 

____

_

 

            Silve climbs on the back of the car, kicking her feet back and forth. Ophelia sits on the ground, munching on her granola. Like Silve said - it was pretty chewy.

 

            "It's so peaceful out here." She murmurs, leaning her head back.

 

            Only a few clouds dot the sky, but it's mostly clear. The lack of city lights mean that every star is visible...and there are so many. It's like an ocean, an ocean of _stars_...Ophelia gives a low whistle, leaning against the back of the car.

 

            "Can you imagine what it's like to see this every night?" She says, tossing the not-so-crunchy granola into the back seat, "Just the cosmos, as far as the eye can see."

 

            The moon hangs, milky-yellow and bloated, her eye trained on the people staring so longingly at her. A bird flies low, it's shadow swooping just across the moon's face. Ophelia longs for her camera          

 

____

_

 

 

 

            "Do you believe in god?" Silve asks suddenly, looking up at the stars.

 

            Ophelia watches the sky. A plane flies overhead, little signals of red and green blinking like a satellite.

 

 

            Did she believe in god? Could she? Her life's been...a mess, simply put. Her anger, her marriage, her child...she was only a kid when shit hit the fan. What 20-something is expected to deal with that? Would a god, a "loving" god, do that?

 

            'Yeah, I believe' she thinks, 'I don't know if he's old, or if he's senile or if he's just crazy, but I believe.'

 

            'Maybe he hates us,' she continues to think, watching the blinking lights fade into nothingness, 'Maybe he's tired of our bullshit. Maybe he's just waiting for us to kill ourselves quietly, with a little bit of dignity.'

 

            'Maybe he's just ashamed'

 

            Instead, she chucks a rock out into the desert and says, "Dunno."

 

            Silve nods, twisting her mouth into a slight grimace. Like she's thinking. Like she's trying to string the words together, but they just won't cooperate.

 

 

            "A few years ago," She starts, rolling the words about on her tongue, "I worked in this house in southern Virginia. In the mountains, you know?"

 

            "Yeah, I know." Ophelia turns her head to watch Silve - she only uses that tone when she has something important to say, after all.

 

            "It wasn't much - we were upstairs from this flower store. The "matron" worked in the front in the day and it was kind of cool, honestly - the place always smelled nice. Lotta pollen though. Like, _everywhere_ , all over our clothes and stuff." Silve sticks out her tongue.

 

            "What's this got to do with god?" Ophelia snaps.

 

            "I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it! Learn how to be patient!" Silve kicks at Ophelia's head, and Ophelia bats her foot away,"So like I was saying, when I worked there, there was this forest everyone talked about. Well, not talked, it's like they were scared of it. Kinda of whispered about it, like they thought they'd be dragged in if they said it's name too loud. Hazel Hollow, I think that's what it was called. Hazel Hollow, talk about your ominous names, right?"

 

            Silve gives a slightly hysterical laugh, but it's mirthless. There's a cold fear that's set in her eye now, shimmering in the dim glow of the stars.

 

            "Anyway, they always said that people went in there to die. Off themselves - something about it being so quiet, so peaceful. It's like people were called there, to kill themselves. There's another forest like it, in Japan, I think."

            Her feet stop kicking - she cranes her neck up, up to look at the hanging moon, looking for answers, "...I wonder...I wonder if that's normal, you know? Like, every country has their own 'death forest', that people just go when...nevermind, doesn't matter."

 

            Silve's quiet for a moment. That cold fear in those big eyes have been replaced with something...something more morose.

 

            "I had this guy take me over there one time. A "client"," She spits the word like a bad taste, "We pulled up at the edge of the forest and it was pitch black - I thought he just wanted to get it done in the car, but he stepped out. Made this big song-and-dance about "fancying a stroll" and I kept thinking "This is it, this is where I'm going to die.

 

            "I kept telling him, no, I don't want to walk, no, I want to go back, but he grabbed me, dragged me out. I was still a kid back then, I didn't know what to do...I was lighter then too."

 

            Silve chuckles weakly, "So he just threw me over his shoulder and took me in, kicking and screaming."

 

            Ophelia's arms dropped to her sides a long time ago - she reaches up and pulls herself onto the back of the car, sitting alongside Silve. The road is still silent, the wind still creating rivulets in the sand. The stars stretch out, long and proud, against a blue-black sky, feigning interest in Silve's story.

 

            "We walked for a while," Silve leans back, throwing her hands behind her head and staring at the sky, "Like, a _long_ time. It was pitch black in there, but he had this little flashlight attached to his jacket. Kinda like a video game character, you know? But this wasn't a video game I wanted any part in - like, I was ready to turn the video game off.

 

            "When he stopped, he just dropped me onto the ground. This guy was huge, I mean, he had to have been 6"3 or something - I'm not saying I'm tiny, but christ, it hurt when I hit the ground." She tilts her head towards Ophelia, watching her.

            "I think I was crying at that point, begging him not to kill me, telling him I'd give him anything he wanted. We had people like that, sometimes, they'd want a free 'job' and they'd said they'd kill us if we didn't perform, bullshit like that. One of them actually did kill one of the girls - they caught him upstate, dragged his happy ass back to prosecute. He only got 10 years, can you believe that? 'Manslaughter', they called it - 'extreme emotional distress,', some crap about him just breaking up with his wife...it was all crap, but thems the breaks, I guess."

 

            Silve goes quiet again, a kind of angry, seething quiet that Ophelia rarely sees (and seems so very, very familiar).

 

            "That's bullshit." Ophelia says, shaking her head.

 

            "Yeah, it was. But like I said - "thems the breaks." Anyway, I'm begging and pleading him to let me go home, and he's just staring at me...he looked at me like I wasn't even real...like, he couldn't believe I was speaking to him, let alone begging.

 

            "And then...I'll never forget this, never in my life - he got down on top of me, so his face was real close to mine." Silve sits up, leaning her face over Ophelia's, her eyes wide open

 

            'Just like when I'm sleeping,' Ophelia thinks, staring back.

 

            "You wanna know what he said to me?" Silve says quietly, her voice taking a deep, solemn tone, "He said ' _The old gods are here._ '"

 

            She hovers over Ophelia, her face leaning so close Ophelia could feel the puff of air against her cheek. And she stayed - still as a statue...staring at her, staring at each other, just _staring_.

 

            Ophelia reaches out, brushing a hand against Silve's cheek. Her breath is hot but her skin is cold to the touch, like marble - whether it's the night air or the cold bite of fear, Ophelia doesn't really know. And she doesn't care to find out.

            After a moment, Silve leans into the touch, closing her eyes, her face twists, as if she's trying to remember touch.

 

            Then she sits back, staring at the sky again.

 

            "What happened next?" Ophelia prompts.

 

            "He shoved me away. Told me I had thirty seconds and then he was coming after me - I bolted." Silve claps her hands together, one moving towards the distance, the other staying in place, as she makes a "woosh" sound under her breath, "Ran like I was on fire, you know? But, like I said, it was pitch black. I kept hitting trees and stumps and falling over."

 

            She heaves a sigh, "I ended up just finding a hollow in this tree and hiding in it, waiting for him to find me. He never did, though. I waited until morning, when the birds started chirping...it was still dark in the forest, even with the sun out, can you believe that? These hikers found me, took me out of the forest by the hand..."

 

            "...What happened to the guy?" Ophelia murmurs

 

            Silve shrugs, "They found him a few days later. Apparently, he took me to where his wife hung herself - I guess...guess he wanted to do the same."

 

            "But _why'd_ he take you?"

 

            Silve shrugs again, "Dunno. Maybe he wanted someone to remember him. To listen to him, or something... The Old Gods are here...I'll never forget that."

 

            Ophelia sits up on her elbows, "What's it even mean?"

 

            Silve gives a snort, "You're asking me as if I know - supposedly, he was part of this cult that lived in the town? Some church or something. They believed in the "old ways"...maybe she went to go meet them...his wife, I mean."

 

            Another plane passes overhead, a streak of white following it.

 

            "Maybe he wanted to go meet her."

 

            There's a pause; and then Silve speaks again.

            "I think there's a god - maybe not an old god, like he said but...I think." She kicks her feet again and _christ_ , Ophelia can't stop seeing her as a child, "I think maybe he hates us. And that's why he creates forests like that...and people like that."

            She turns to Ophelia again, a serene smile on her face, "Imagine that. God must have loved us, if he created us, but now he hates us. "Thems the breaks.""

 

 

 

            They watch the stars for a while; and then, they hit the road once more, driving quietly, only the whistle of an open window speaking. The moon hangs in the sky, smiling at her children.

 

____

_

 

            A few days pass - the job goes smoothly, and Ophelia's en route to her next one, somewhere in Oregon. They stop at a motel, and fall into bed, exhausted.

 

 

            She wakes sometime near midnight.

 

            Silve sits by her bedside, staring at her.

 

            They stare, stare...the cars putter by on the interstate just outside of the motel, the clock ticks slowly, slowly and then stops.

 

            The moon peaks through the closed blinds.

 

            "The old gods," Ophelia says slowly, quietly...breathlessly, "Are dead."

 

            With that, Silve nods, and goes back to sleep.

 

           

____

_

 

            For the first time in years, Ophelia dreams. It keeps her up for three days straight.

**Author's Note:**

> i remember i wrote this for a creative writing class my last semester of college. it's a blurb from a larger fic, _The Ides of March_ that i've been writing for a long time now - that being said, it probably won't be done until i'm fucking 79 or something.


End file.
